What makes a service Exceeding?
It’s a question I’ve been asked more times than I can count. And while there are many correct answers, the truth is… it depends. It depends on the children and families, the educators and leadership team, and the values, priorities, and culture of the local community. The markers of quality are as diverse as the communities we serve.
We’re not short on support to help us unpack this question. ACECQA and the Guide to the National Quality Standard provide clear guidance, just to name a few, and the recent revisions to the Exceeding NQS themes give us structure:
- Theme 1 – Embedded in service operations
- Theme 2 – Informed by critical reflection
- Theme 3 – Shaped by meaningful engagement with families and/or community
But what I want to share here is not a checklist. It’s a felt sense. A knowing, not just in policy and practice, but in presence.
Having had the privilege of visiting hundreds of early learning services in a variety of roles, I’ve started to notice some common threads, especially when it comes to Quality Area 1 (Educational program and practice) and Quality Area 5 (Relationships with children).
Let me take you on a little journey.
What It Can Feel Like in an Exceeding Service
The SoundsIt’s not about being quiet for quiet’s sake. In fact, it’s not about volume at all. It’s about tone. In these spaces, you hear the sounds of flow, deep, meaningful engagement. Children immersed in play, where concentration drowns out distraction. When there is noise, it’s laughter, curiosity, or delight. Never control. Educators speak gently, with wondering, not instructing:
“I wonder what would happen if…”
“How could we find out…”
“Do you think we could try…”
The absence of adult-centric narration creates space for the child’s voice to emerge.
Time Slows Down
There’s an unhurried rhythm. Educators are not rushing from one learning outcome to the next. Children are not shuffled from activity to activity. There’s trust in the learning process, and the program is not led by the clock, but by curiosity. That’s flow. That’s autonomy. That’s pedagogy rooted in relationship and respect.
The Smells
Yes, the smells. The calming scent of eucalyptus oil, the earthy freshness of herbs picked straight from the garden, the trace of mud from morning play. These are not incidental, they are signs of thoughtful, intentional environments. Environments that breathe.
The Visuals
It’s not a picture-perfect Instagram aesthetic. It’s lived-in, used, and loved. There might be muddy footprints at the entrance. There might be a half-built cubby still standing from yesterday’s play. There are signs of real exploration; clay sculptures in progress, loose parts inviting reuse, and play scenes left undisturbed to honour children’s right to revisit their work. Perfection is not the goal, authenticity is.
Indoor and Outdoor Flow
Boundaries dissolve. Doors are open. Children flow freely between spaces, choosing where they feel most engaged, most comfortable, most alive. Nature is not an activity, it’s part of the architecture of the day. This is where autonomy lives.
Relationships as the Heartbeat
Educators move slowly. They crouch to the child’s level, speak with kindness, and radiate a sense of calm presence. This isn’t performative. It’s relational pedagogy in action. It’s what Dr. Louise Porter might call the foundation of guidance: connection first.
The Energy
In Exceeding services, you can feel a co-regulated nervous system. There is psychological safety, not just for children, but for adults too. There’s a rhythm of trust in the room. Educators are attuned. They notice dysregulation without rushing to fix. They sit beside big feelings. They model self-regulation. The whole environment becomes a container for emotional learning.
Every Element Holds Meaning
Nothing is random. Every element. whether it’s an herb garden, a basket of gumnuts, or a half-read story, is part of an intentional, child-centred pedagogy. These are not Pinterest-inspired props; they’re clues about what matters here. About what’s being honoured.
And yet it never feels forced. Intentionality is held lightly, not rigidly. There’s room for children to reimagine the space. They are collaborators in meaning-making, not consumers of adult-designed experiences.
Embedded Critical Reflection
What you feel as a visitor is often the result of dozens of thoughtful micro-decisions made through team reflection. They’re not just planning experiences, they’re tuning into how those experiences land, how they support each child’s needs, how they align with the service philosophy. This is how Exceeding becomes sustainable.
Cup Filling Across the System
In Exceeding services, the educators’ own cups are being filled. There is a culture of wellbeing, of professionalism, of joy in the work. When educators are supported to meet their own life needs - Connection, Safety, Freedom, Mastery, Fun -it shows up in everything. The children thrive because the adults do.A Note on Perfection
This isn’t a prescription. Exceeding will never look exactly the same from one service to the next - and nor should it. This is one way it can feel. And it’s a way worth sharing.
What stands out to me most is not just the joy of the children, but the joy of the educators. When children are thriving, so are the teams. I’ve seen educators who love coming to work. Who feel part of something meaningful. Who are supported to engage in reflective practice, not compliance. It reminds me of our recent blog on Flow Pedagogy.
A Hope
My hope is for all children, and all educators, to experience this kind of environment.
Where relationships are the foundation.
Where nature is a collaborator.
Where time, voice, and agency are respected.
Where calm and curiosity lead the way.
Where we’re not filling out boxes, we’re filling cups.
Author: Angela Round